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A Watercolor Life

The paintings of Monet have always inspired me - the strokes that appear random upon close inspection of a canvas takes on a different appearance the further away you position yourself from the piece. Slowly images begin to appear and make sense to the observer. The strokes that appeared sloppily orchestrated up close or even appeared as possible mistakes, now create the delicate petals of water lilies on the surface of a pond. Instead of images becoming clearer the closer you step, focus appears as you take in the entire masterpiece.

I've been contemplating the large masterpiece of my life recently. For so long I've been focused on the individual brushstrokes that don't make sense. I can't piece them together. The blues, pinks, and purples that are smeared across the canvas - the heartache, the challenges, the questions, the difficulties - I can't see the entire canvas, yet. But, I know who does. The one who knows the very number of the hairs on my head.

6"Are not five sparrows sold for two cents? Yet not one of them is forgotten before God. 7"Indeed, the very hairs of your head are all numbered. Do not fear; you are more valuable than many sparrows. ~Luke 12: 6-7

By nature, I'm not a trusting person, I'm a skeptic. I like to be in control and create my own brushstrokes, strokes that make sense to me, that paint a picture that I can see and can navigate the outcome. The danger in this is the fact that my picture or masterpiece would be in focus only when I am close to it. When I understand each stroke, my masterpiece would result in a very small creation.The masterpiece that my Jesus and Savior paints is larger than I can imagine. He is orchestrating each stroke and can see how each color blends in and connects to other colors and pieces. He sees how the difficult situation can be used for a greater purpose than my postage sized piece of art, my color by number artwork. I know where each color goes and what it will look like even before I begin. He knows how to minutely add sorrow and pain to create glory and gratefulness; how to mix loss and struggle to create joy and celebration. He can take my brushstrokes that I controlled and calculated and fought to take the brush from his hand and still use it to create a glorious masterpiece that I may never see in completion, or know what the final image is. But, he knows. And letting go and trusting him is the only way the pain and hurt can turn into a masterpiece full of beauty and glory.How humbling to think that the God who created the universe takes care with the brushstrokes of my life. The blending, smudges, and mistakes are intricately woven into a story that can have impact in my world.

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I'm glad to see that you are posting again. I know you have been so busy. You have a beautiful life and God is using you greatly in the lives of children. Keep in posting. I want to walk with you through this beautiful masterpiece of your life. I want to see it brush stroke by brush stroke.

I'm living in a house that was purchased in 1960 and had one owner. When we moved in, it was full of a life that was lived.

Since we've moved into it, we have spent hours sorting through vacation souvenirs, family photos, handmade clothes, kitchen supplies, closets full of linens and the likes.

Through this "cleaning" we have noticed how the person who lived here tried her best to keep her home in the best shape possible, even when she wasn't able. Tonight as we cleaned the master bedroom in preparation to rip the carpet up and paint the walls, we discovered mini-blinds that were taped together with kleenex to block the light out and chipped paint held in place from the places it was falling by scotch tape. While it is a nuisance to remove from the walls, the scotch tape struck a chord with me and immediately saddened me upon its sight.

Here was a precious woman holding together something she found precious with scotch tape. It immediately led me to think …